Archives

There’s nothing new that I can add to the general gestalt about Barnsley beating Chelsea in the FA Cup last weekend. On the evidence of the last 20 minutes of the match, which I caught, Barnsley thoroughly deserved the win, and lo there was exultation. Well, except for at the other end of the couch, where my five year old could be found blubbing because I had told her to shut it during the last 90 seconds of the game. Apparently I “love soccer more than [I] love [her].” I wasn’t expecting this degree of emotional mayhem for another 6 years or so. It’s a real change from the last time she burst into tears over a televised sporting event – but then she was only 2 at the time, and there was no reason to expect that the Bush Push touchdown against Notre Dame would cause the “screaming dervish 28 inch vertical leap from the sitting position.” A feat, to be honest, that I don’t expect to be able to reproduce without a cattle prod and a 10 second head start.

To my great shame, OC Phil, I was upstairs at the time. I simply couldn’t cope any more, so I had hit “record” and was tracking the game via cell update while tending to small people – it being the early evening here at the time.

I went tear-assing downstairs because there were no phone updates, and caught the final four plays or so.

A friend of mine pointed out that it’s physically unhealthy to switch from adrenaline fueled euphoria to grief in ~ 60 seconds, which meant that the game was literally bad for the health of Domers. This seemed funny until the end of the 06 Rose Bowl.